Sisters of the Blade
by Viedyn
Summary: A series of one-shots in response to the 'fifty themes, one sentence' challenge over at Live Journal. Scene 02: Fifty Shots of Love and Hate. Mentions of Roxanne/Cassandra and Roxanne/Nadine.
1. Scene 01: Illusive Fantasy

**Sisters of the Blade**

By Viedyn

A/N: My first attempt at Claymore fan fiction! This is the first time I've tried the 'fifty themes, one sentence' challenge… if it isn't actually legitimate to use the theme sets (found on the 1sentence community at Live Journal) without having an account, then I'm sorry! Please don't sue!

Back to this fic: this is the first of (hopefully) many theme sets I'll be writing for different characters, but Scene 01 is dedicated to Jean and Clare (my favourite characters! And pairing, but the former just _had_ to die). Anyway, I've said enough here – see you at the bottom!

Disclaimer: This is purely a work of fiction. Whatever I may use in the making of this belongs to their creator. Any infringement is unintended.

Revision History: 29th October 2011.

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**Scene 01: Illusive ****Fantasy (Theme set Delta)**

_#01 – Air_

She spoke with the air of one who was lending a trivial object, as if she had not just pledged her life to Clare.

_#02 – Apples_

In comparison to the luscious red apple in Helen's hand, Clare's lips were pale and cracked; despite this, Jean knew which of the two she would undoubtedly claim if at all possible.

_#03 – Beginning_

They met at the beginning, just like the heroes and princesses met in their fairytales, but they both knew (and denied), in some veiled corner of their subconscious, that their story would be bittersweet, and that their 'happily-ever-after' did not exist.

_#04 – Bugs_

Jean found it slightly ridiculous (and admittedly endearing) that Clare, having fought and survived the Abyssal One of the West, was unable to ward off the bugs that swarmed their bloody faces.

_#05 – Coffee_

As they walked through the last town along their route before Pieta, Jean purchased two mugs of an exotic-scented blend called 'coffee' and persuaded her to drink it; when prompted, Jean had explained it as a local beverage where she'd been raised, and Clare had felt a kinship with her companion that was more warming than the coffee.

_#06 – Dark_

Under the encompassing veil of night, they were free to pursue their desires without fear of the consequences; when the shroud of darkness lifted, their nocturnal activities would become nothing more than memories – a mutual affair that would not be brought up or indulged in until darkness returned to claim them.

_#07 – Despair_

Beforehand, she had believed that nothing could even come close to the true despair she'd felt at the time of Teresa's death and Priscilla's Awakening, but Jean's death had brought about a despair that was somehow more devastating and worse in an inexplicable way.

_#08 – Doors_

She was well aware of the inevitable pain that followed the admittance of people into her heart; nonetheless, she soon found herself opening the door for Jean.

_#09 – Drink_

When they found a small stream to wash the blood away and sate their thirst, she noticed the way Jean waited for her to take the first sip; the little twinge in her chest was not easily ignored.

_#10 – Duty_

Initially, she followed number forty-seven because it was her duty as the indebted; yet as time passed, she realised that she would gladly follow Clare even if it weren't her duty.

_#11 – Earth_

As they walked through the silent forest – barefoot and indecently clothed – the feeling of being the only two souls on the Earth evoked an uncomfortable (but not unwelcome) feeling for the both of them; when Rubel and Raphaela shattered their illusion, they thought back (almost wistfully) to those few short moments.

_#12 – End_

Clare couldn't help but feel that she and Jean had been cheated of the middle section of their incredibly short story.

_#13 – Fall_

When the Silver-Eyed Lion King let Jean slide off his arm and fall – carelessly and infuriatingly casually – Clare felt her heart fall in unison with her comrade and friend.

_#14 – Fire_

In the small cave just outside the town of Pieta, Jean – standing stoically at number forty-seven's shoulder – felt a fleeting desire to step forward and view Clare's (beautiful) features illuminated by the small fire.

_#15 – Flexible_

Clare was well aware of number nine's flexibility – as demonstrated by her special attack – but as the nights grew colder along with their impending arrival in Pieta, Jean seemed to feel the need to continually utilise her flexibility to ensure they both remained warm (they both ignored the fact that they could regulate their body temperatures, and Clare did not object to Jean's ministrations).

_#16 – Flying_

Jean soared through the small space of air between her sword and the throat of the Awakened Being, not at all concerned about the threat posed to her; she had placed her life (her trust, and her faith) in the hands of the warrior flying with her.

_#17 – Food_

Being half-human, half-yoma, they shared what little food they needed with each other; they took turns in eating first, and both took a guilty pleasure in savouring the taste that was not the food.

_#18 – Foot_

Clare leaned back against her claymore, completely oblivious to Jean's attentive gaze following the arch of her bare foot.

_#19 – Grave_

She did not cry as she dug Jean's grave; she would not dishonour her friend any more than she already had.

_#20 – Green_

Clare was surprised – not from the abruptness, but from the sheer _normality_ of the comment – when Jean remarked that green eyes would suit her.

_#21 – Head_

Clare continued to stare at the blonde head of the supposed leader of the unit, only leaping out of sight when the warrior's head swung around sharply; Jean continued to walk through the parting crowd, waiting in anticipation for the gaze she had felt previously to impart its weight on her.

_#22 – Hollow_

Thinking about Jean, even seven years after her passing, widened a hollow pit in her stomach – the hollow, however, seemed shallow compared to the multitude of feelings that rose unbidden in her heart.

_#23 – Honour_

Jean was an incredibly honourable person; honour, however, had nothing to do with her self-determined duty (and desire) to follow Clare.

_#24 – Hope_

Hope had welled up inside her chest when Jean had restrained Helen's sword-arm; it dissipated into shock and despair when, a few scant moments later, the wounded warrior was impaled by the blades along Clare's arms.

_#25 – Light_

There was very little light to illuminate the town of Pieta, even during the day; Jean cursed this fact every time she lost sight of Clare.

_#26 – Lost_

The Battle of Pieta was the survival of seven out of twenty-four; it could not be called their victory, and it could not be called their loss – yet Clare felt she'd lost a significant part of herself that night.

_#27 – Metal_

Her eyes were sharper than the metal blades of their claymores, pointed and blunt at the same time, and indescribably more effective than any old sword.

_#28 – New_

As Jean slipped on the brand new set of clothes and armour, she couldn't refrain from wishing idly for the dark, enveloping cloak; despite its scratchiness against her bare skin, it evoked an indescribable feeling merely from the fact that Clare had worn it and given it to her.

_#29 – Old_

In spite of the impossibility, she still harboured the desire to fight (with her), dream (with her), live (with her), and grow old (with her).

_#30 – Peace_

Gazing at Jean's pale face – bloodied, wet and dirtied – she yearned to experience – even briefly – and share with her the feeling of absolute peace that adorned the lifeless features; however, as Deneve's foot connected jarringly with her side, she knew that no peace would come until she'd exacted every last vestige of vengeance that burned inside her.

_#31 – Poison_

She was like a poison: plaguing her every thought, haunting her at every turn, seeping into her very veins, whispering sweet words of blissful nothings as she struggled against the cold, harsh winds of Alphonse.

_#32 – Pretty_

She would never dare to say it aloud, for fear of offending her companion, but Clare's very first thought upon seeing Jean's Awakened form was that it was pretty (beautiful).

_#33 – Rain_

When the skies began to rain, Jean toyed for hours with the (tempting) thought of sharing their one cloak with number forty-seven; long after downpour rain had ceased and night had fallen, she was still contemplating the thought.

_#34 – Regret_

She regretted not sharing more than she had with Jean, and that they'd had no more than a week together – however, she would never regret having met her, despite the pain that still lingered in her heart.

_#35 – Roses_

Their route through the forest had brought them upon a bush of blossoming roses, and Jean had lingered for the barest of seconds; the next morning, Clare had woken up to find a single, small red rose sitting innocently on her waist pouch, and a shade of red – that matched the colour of the surprising token – adorning her companion's cheeks.

_#36 – Secret_

Shielded from harsh winds and prying eyes and ears, Clare recounted to her veteran friends their encounter with the Abyssal One of the West; both she and Jean came to an unspoken agreement that there was one aspect of their tale (relationship) that would forever remain between them.

_#37 – Snakes_

What they had could not be considered anything less than friendship and camaraderie to an intense depth; however, the snakes that wriggled in her stomach whenever they so much as exchanged a glance could not be defined as 'friendship' either.

_#38 – Snow_

Alone in an empty street of the recently-evacuated town, Clare and Jean struggled to find words and meanings to impart, but ultimately came to a mutual understanding: words were not needed between them, and Clare's lips quirked up in a not-smile as Jean lifted a hand to gently (tenderly, fondly) brush the snow from her companion's hair.

_#39 – Solid_

Awakening from the dreadful tendrils of an all-too familiar nightmare, she was surprised and comforted by the strong, solid arms that encircled her trembling frame; she had already (unthinkingly) returned Elena's embrace before remembering that her friend was dead – slain by her own hands.

_#40 – Spring_

Of the four seasons, Clare disliked spring the most while Jean's preference for spring dominated far stronger over the other three seasons; if Clare had hoped that their contrasting beliefs would separate them, she was completely wrong.

_#41 – Stable_

Finding Raki had been the top priority in her mind and had held her crumbling world together; Jean's presence beside her had stabilised the axis of her world, and her death had tipped it on its head.

_#42 – Strange_

Jean found it slightly strange that Clare would devote herself so wholeheartedly to finding one human boy – was it not strange also, that she found herself feeling envious of this boy?

_#43 – Summer_

As she and her fellow companions reveled in the southern summer, Clare wished that she could have experienced it with Jean.

_#44 – Taboo_

Sometime during the seven years in isolation, Jean had become something of a taboo between the other six Ghosts; when Clare realised this, she purposely reminisced aloud about the fallen warrior.

_#45 – Ugly_

As Jean pulled herself closer along the bloodied blades to Clare's immobile body, gazing serenely at her monstrous face – into her golden feral eyes, at her slavering jaws, sharpened and elongated teeth, and cracked visage – a small part of Clare wondered at the acceptance (and something more) in Jean's silver eyes.

_#46 – War_

She had fought countless battles prior to her current situation, but this war for survival somehow seemed different, in more ways than one; as she tore her eyes (once again) from Clare's diminutive figure in the distance, she realised why.

_#47 – Water_

The small lake they happened upon was a blessing beyond simply cleansing the full extent of blood from their bodies: as they bathed, they both could not refrain from sneaking discreet, fleeting glances at the other's exposed reflections in the water's surface.

_#48 – Welcome_

The villagers' reception to the four Claymores was far from welcome, but Jean hardly noticed as her mind remained fixated on the brief glimpse she'd caught of a striking visage framed by light blonde hair.

_#49 – Winter_

There seemed to exist only one season in the land of Alphonse (winter), but Clare thought that she would not mind it at all if only Jean were still alive.

_#50 – Wood_

She stroked the wooden sill below the window absently, a poor substitute for the soft hands (and body) she so desperately yearned to hold.

**Fini**

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A/N: Positive reviews are encouraging, constructive criticism is highly appreciated, negative reviews are discouraging, negative reviews with constructive criticism are discouraging but helpful. And please tell me which ones you enjoyed or found the most memorable! Always good to know.

On another note, let me know how you feel about another shot at a Clare X Jean, except set in an alternate universe (Please take a few moments to submit your poll entries on my profile page). I'm not planning to write anything big or elaborate like a trilogy until I've gained some experience. For now, it's just drabbles, vignettes (whatever they are… help?) and these one sentence challenges.

On a side note, I was listening to _Illusive Consensus_ by Epica while writing this. Very inspirational. Well, I think that's all. I won't set a date for the release of the next installment, but hopefully it's soon and not during a time when I have homework to complete.


	2. Scene 02: Fifty Shots of Love and Hate

A/N: Well, I know I said I was gonna work on an Ophelia-centric one next, and I did, but then I sorta lost steam about halfway through and it got shoved onto the backburner. Then I read chapters 116-119 (by the way, spoilers for those chapters ahead, read at your own discretion) and was totally seduced by Roxanne. Dear God, but she is totally hot… and twisted… and sexy… and evil…

Anyway, Roxanne has bumped the blanket rating up to M… because of mild sMexy times. There are some mentions of Roxanne/Cassandra (possibly my new favourite pairing) and also Roxanne/Nadine because… because I can. That means femslash. Title has also been changed, because frankly, the last one sucked.

Many thanks to my dear friend and beta, _Minion of Sekhmet_. To my readers, I hope you enjoy this, and let me know what you think!

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**Scene 02: Fifty Shots of Love and Hate (Theme set Gamma)**

_#01 – Ring_

It had finally come full circle: Roxanne had started out as Number Thirty-Five and now, years later, the death of the new Number Thirty-Five was the catalyst for her promotion to the rank of Number One.

_#02 – Hero_

No one cheers for her when the Yoma slides off her blade with a dying growl, because they all know she's not a hero; she's every bit as monstrous as the beasts she is hired to kill.

_#03 – Memory_

A shiver of excitement passes through Roxanne when Cassandra finally turns towards her and she glimpses the unmistakable fire of remembered hatred in those burning eyes.

_#04 – Box_

Roxanne did not need to 'think outside the box' when fighting; after all, her box of techniques and fighting styles was continually absorbing and expanding.

_#05 – Run_

The screams of her dying friends spurred her short legs on faster as she crashed through the undergrowth, running away from them and the Yoma towards the village and safety.

_#06 – Hurricane_

It had been years, but still Roxanne's breath caught in her chest and a wide smirk stretched across her face at the sight of Cassandra the Dust Eater tearing through the rebellious warriors like a hurricane.

_#07 – Wings_

She would fly higher than the rest by jumping on their backs, tearing off their wings, and soaring up to the next one.

_#08 – Cold_

Beyond the flailing of limbs, the flashing of swords and the sprays of blood, Cassandra glimpsed Roxanne's smiling face; the smile that used to radiate warmth and love now chilled her to the bone.

_#09 – Red_

Roxanne stared up at Nadine breathlessly, her red-painted lips parted in anticipation and a gleam entering her only eye when the Number Nine warrior's eye – and hands – drifted downwards.

_#10 – Drink_

Uranus laughed loudly and heartily into her half-empty tankard, Roxanne giggled tipsily into her cup, and the other patrons of the bar remained grimly silent and hunched over their drinks.

_#11 – Midnight_

Cassandra oft considered the sudden change in Roxanne's interactions with her as comparable to midnight: one second she had been loving and warm, and the next second it was as if everything had changed – distant, cold, and condescending – with the arrival of the new day.

_#12 – Temptation_

Roxanne knew just what was required to get close to each of her objects of affection: Uranus had craved friendship; Elizabeth had wanted a student; Nadine had been starved of physicality; and Cassandra had longed for love and companionship.

_#13 – View_

"Just enjoying the view," Roxanne answered in a low, sensual voice, slowly appraising a blushing Cassandra from head to toe.

_#14 – Music_

"Sing for me, Cassandra; your screams are music to my ears."

_#15 – Silk_

Roxanne could charm her way into anyone's heart with her silky smooth words.

_#16 – Cover_

She always tried to hide the mark on her torso – not because it was grotesque, but because it marked her as a tool of the Organisation, a child that had been abandoned by her own kin.

_#17 – Promise_

"I'm keeping you to your promise 'til the day I die," Uranus said laughingly as they cleaned the gore from their blades.

_#18 – Dream_

"You make me not want to sleep, because reality is far better than my dreams," Cassandra said with a blush on her face; Roxanne quickly quashed the twinge of regret.

_#19 – Candle_

She huddled in the smallest corner of the dark room, wishing that if her parents didn't want to hold her then at least they could light a candle to ward off the Yoma that had attacked and eaten all her friends.

_#20 – Talent_

They said she had a talent for fully synchronizing her Yoki with any other warrior, and that in this way, she could hide her presence completely from them; what they didn't anticipate was her uncanny talent for stealing the hearts, and techniques, of other warriors.

_#21 – Silence_

Roxanne said nothing at all as she was carted across the continent, her only lucid thoughts centred on how her family – her own parents – had sold her out to the men in black.

_#22 – Journey_

The trip was over far too soon for young Roxanne, whose thoughts had been consumed by fresh, painful memories of abandoning her childhood friends to the Yoma and being abandoned in turn by her family.

_#23 – Fire_

After recovering from the pain – of the fusion, of abandonment – Roxanne raged at anyone and anything with all the roaring might of a wild blaze, only to be beaten down and doused out every single time.

_#24 – Strength_

She understood, thanks to her family, that love was nothing but a weakness to be exploited; that was what enabled her to befriend a stronger warrior, bond with them, and then cut them loose once she'd gotten what she needed to become even stronger.

_#25 – Mask_

It never started out as a mask; Roxanne had honestly first greeted Uranus with the open face of a friend, Elizabeth with the eager eyes of a young student, Nadine with heartfelt arousal, and Cassandra with true affection.

_#26 – Ice_

The trainers, having grown accustomed to her fiery temper and loose fists, were unnerved by the saccharine sweet smiles she now wore and amusingly ignorant of the icy hatred hidden beneath the loveliness.

_#27 – Fall_

To climb ever higher, she was willing to take a few falls – like the loss of her right eye (which she'd eventually regained) and the numerous wounds she'd received after initially switching sword hands.

_#28 – Forgotten_

Uranus, Elizabeth, Nadine, Cassandra – they were never forgotten, even years after their deaths; they were all responsible for Roxanne's survival and triumph.

_#29 – Dance_

The dance of death was one with which all half-breed sisters of the blade were familiar, but none had yet been able to truly keep up with Roxanne, the best dancer of them all.

_#30 – Body_

Nadine had been the easiest to inveigle; Roxanne had offered friendship to Uranus, her heart to Cassandra, but all she'd had to give to the Number Nine was her body.

_#31 – Sacred_

This… affair – this romantic entanglement – would ultimately end with Cassandra dead and Roxanne having finally acquired that alluringly close-kept technique, but for now, she would enjoy their clandestine meetings and that delightful way in which Cassandra worshipped her body.

_#32 – Farewells_

After calling her "Dust Eater", Roxanne left Cassandra – the Number One, the easy mark, the easily seduced, her lover, her latest obsession and her latest victim – without so much as an explanation or a good-bye.

_#33 – World_

"Oh, you're Cassandra's best friend?" Roxanne asked of Number Thirty-Five with her trademark saccharine sweet smile, "my, but it's a small world."

_#34 – Formal_

Number Five, Elizabeth, was a stiff and boring person despite her beautiful sword technique and Roxanne only associated with her for as long as it took to attain the skill.

_#35 – Fever_

She was almost feverish with excitement at the sight of the mysterious Number One warrior in the Organisation, overcome by the rising swell of affection and craving.

_#36 – Laugh_

As Cassandra tore through the screaming ranks of assembled warriors, her eyes intent only on one person, Roxanne began to laugh – loudly and manically.

_#37 – Lies_

"Don't fret so, Cassandra," Roxanne said cheerily, "I'll take good care of your friend."

_#38 – Forever_

"All I wanted was to stay with her forever, and you took that from me too!" Cassandra screamed, tears streaming down her face as she threw herself against Roxanne's unrelenting blade again and again and again.

_#39 – Overwhelmed_

Roxanne adored the little tells that spoke volumes of just how close Cassandra was to the edge: the way she threw up an arm to cover her eyes, the way her voice deepened in a guttural moan and the way the flush spread from her pale cheeks to her heaving chest.

_#40 – Whisper_

Roxanne sidled up to Nadine's right shoulder and leaned against her back, brushing her ear with soft exhales, light nibbles and sensual words, and delighting in the shiver her whispers elicited.

_#41 – Wait_

"Wait, Roxanne," Cassandra growled out and grabbed her by the wrist, "Was I just a fucking game to you?"

_#42 – Talk_

She could see that Cassandra wanted to talk with her on the few instances they met after Roxanne's abrupt and unexplained departure, no doubt wanting the answers to why she'd left, what she'd done, if they were still lovers, and she thought it pitiful.

_#43 – Search_

No matter how many times Cassandra stopped to look back over her shoulder, or scanned her surroundings for the aura of a fellow warrior, she'd never find her if Roxanne did not want to be found.

_#44 – Hope_

She lay on her cot, curled up in pain and whimpering herself to sleep, fervently hoping that her family would come and take her back – but they never did.

_#45 – Eclipse_

Without her Dust Eater technique, Cassandra's skills would have been eclipsed by Roxanne's stolen beautiful sword technique; with her Dust Eater, Cassandra was still defeated by Roxanne, this time by the Blade of Evil.

_#46 – Gravity_

There was some hidden quality or presence about Roxanne that drew everyone into orbit around her – those that feared her, loved her and hated her alike.

_#47 – Highway_

Roxanne led her Awakened Hunting Party along the highway with a confident smile, assured that the insipid Number Thirty-Five would soon be dead and Cassandra would be all hers (to manipulate, to possess, to torture, to expose and kill).

_#48 – Unknown_

She could hear them whispering furtively about her, wondering about the suspicious deaths of all those she had once loved: Uranus, Elizabeth, Nadine and Cassandra.

_#49 – Lock_

As the door to the cell slammed shut for the thousandth time, the hope that she'd be welcomed back by her family finally died and Roxanne locked her heart away.

_#50 – Breathe_

"Breathe," Roxanne whispered hotly – and amusedly – into Cassandra's reddened ears, delighting in the sight and feel of the lithe body bucking and arching into her thrusting fingers.


End file.
